Warehouse Jewels

Durant. Graham. Hupmobile. Could this be the world's biggest stash of parts?

Feature Article from Hemmings Classic Car

Take a minute, and contemplate some nameplates from the past as we toss them your way. First, there's Hupmobile. Next, there's Graham. Now, mix two even more seldom-seen brands into the stew, Durant and Star, both born of the fabled Billy Durant's mania for expansion. Next, try to think of the last time you've seen any of these cars in person, unless it was on a show field. Never. Right? Or you just can't recall? Good, that's what we figured. Then, try to imagine looking for parts for a Hupmobile, or for that matter, parts for a Durant. You probably start thinking about trudging through the aisles at Hershey while the cold October rain pelts down, peering from underneath your hood at a bewildering array of slick-wet parts underneath tarps inside sodden cardboard boxes more numerous than you could ever hope to count.
So far, solid. After digesting all that, let your mind switch to a famed automotive city in Indiana, the home of some of motoring's greatest marques, where a lot of the old architecture is cemented together from old brick. Inside one old warehouse in the historic automobile town of Auburn, Indiana, are new parts for the cars mentioned above. Tons of parts. Enough of them to fill bins that reach almost to the ceilings. So many, in fact, that the guy who keeps them all in the warehouse has no idea, admittedly, of exactly what he's got, other than the fact that his family's been accumulating them since the companies that produced them went kablooey so many moons ago.
"Picture the warehouse being 800 running feet long, with the whole length of it lined with bins that are 9 feet high, and all of them full of stuff. That's what we've got. It's just unbelievable how many parts are in there," Stan Liddell described.
You've got to feel for the guy. Here's someone who's a self-described car guy, whose dad had a front-row seat to the great industry shakeout of the Depression, whose debris became some of the family's prized holdings. And yet Liddell is almost helpless to describe what he's got, other than the fact that it's dominated by pieces that were supposed to be installed on new Hupmobiles, Grahams, Durants and Stars, only the referees of economics decided to start throwing flags on the field. You name it, and it's probably stacked somewhere in the long, dimly lit hallways of the warehouse: fenders, dashboard instruments, engine blocks, superchargers, springs and shackles, fasteners, even ignition and door keys. They're all around as you step through the place in bewilderment. It's more than just a trove of parts, it's a tribute to some long-forgotten makes. Almost a monument, really, reminiscent of the ancient Egyptians piling up trinkets to honor departed pharaohs inside their tombs.
This off-the-wall story goes back to the 1930s, and starts with a guy from Detroit named Dallas Winslow, who is probably best described as a financier, the kind who scarfed up the remains of the many companies that saw their customer bases erased after Wall Street crashed. Winslow roamed around the Northeast and Midwest, buying up the assets of the ever-growing number of dead car companies for dimes on the dollar after they'd ceased operations. As Liddell told the story, Winslow was involved in the dismantling of companies including Auburn, Cord, the American arm of Rolls-Royce and the Frazer Roto-Tiller Company, which was headed by an ex-Chrysler executive named Joe Frazer, who later became one-half of Kaiser-Frazer. Liddell's father, Herbert Stanley Liddell, worked for Winslow for many years, handling the liquidation of crippled companies that Winslow had acquired. One of them was Franklin, which is why Liddell was born in Syracuse, New York, Franklin's home, in 1937.
To make a long story short, Liddell's father ended up owning the galaxy of Hupmobile and Graham parts when he liquidated the companies for Winslow after the desperate merger finally collapsed into a heap in 1941. Added to this were surviving parts from the inventories of Durant and Star--the two brands formed by Billy Durant after he was canned by General Motors for the second and last time--which folded in 1932 and 1928, respectively, with the Star briefly transformed into an entry-level Durant. Winslow, who Liddell described as "being to the automotive business what Howard Hughes was to aircraft," ended up owning the remaining assets of those drowned brands, as well. The elder Liddell was tapped by Winslow to manage what was left of Auburn-Cord-Duesenberg, which Winslow had also acquired, until Winslow's death. Because Herbert Stanley Liddell was the executor of Winslow's estate, the collection, if that's the right word, ended up in the hands of Liddell's mother, who then sold it to Liddell and his siblings, whom Liddell ended up buying out.
Liddell definitely had the means to do it. He has holdings in shopping centers, restaurants and nightclubs, including one billed as the Midwest's largest. He also has a lot of holdings in real estate across northeastern Indiana, and owns a hotel and casino in the Dominican Republic. As a result, his daughter Tish handles most of the contacts from the outside world when it comes to the obsolete parts trove. Liddell once owned an eight-cylinder 1934 Graham Model 69, and still retains ties with the community of Graham owners. Under the direction of his father, the inventory originally included most of the remaining parts stocks of Auburn and Cord dating back to when both great marques breathed their last in 1937, but most of these pieces have long since been sold off to collectors.
What remains are tons, literally, of parts for the other ex-Winslow properties, with Graham and Hupmobile goodies apparently the most numerous. That said, it bears repeating that, off the cuff, Liddell only has a general idea of what comprises the full inventory. He tried to describe it, telling us, "Let's say you're talking about a 1936 Graham. There might be 200 bumpers there in the warehouse, and literally a million piston rings. I've sold parts for these cars all over the world, even in East Germany before they tore down the Berlin Wall. If someone out there owns a Hupmobile or a Graham, they know where we are, and who we are. I own all the existing original parts, plus the blueprints, patterns, stock certificates and so forth. I also have some original drawings from Auburn for Lycoming engine parts. Of course, being the original drawings on linen cloth, each one would be the only one in the entire world. That's a lot of history in that building."
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This article originally appeared in the May, 2007 issue of Hemmings Classic Car.